


Riptide

by Tyranno



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Moana (2016)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, I don't know if anyone else will like this fic, I had fun, Post-Canon, References to Norse Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-19 04:23:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10632123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyranno/pseuds/Tyranno
Summary: Moana finds a young man trapped in a network of caves far out at sea. He's followed by a dragon, and has a wealth of good stories and good humour. But that's not all he brings with him: he also brings trouble. A lot of it.





	1. Chapter 1

1.

The water glittered in the morning sun like a tray of diamonds. Under an endless, cloudless blue sky, the sea's gentle movements were as regular and comforting as a heartbeat. Moana leaned from the curved spines of the coconut trees, watching every roll of waves. Whenever she was worried this view of the ocean never failed to calm her.

The Island was happy and healthy again, and the rot had crumbled away on her return. But every turning of the seasons brought new worries along with it. She may be a master wayfarer, but the majority of the island had never been on a canoe for longer than a few hours at a time, let alone crossed the reef. So she had focused her efforts on a small group of young people on the cusp of adulthood, who were old enough to make quick and sensible decisions but young enough not to be cemented in Island life yet. They had been doing very well, but still, training took time—time that, as a chieftain, she didn't have a whole lot of. It felt like she was always on her feet, from the moment she was awake to the moment she dropped into her bed.

Moana pushed off the sweeping coconut tree and set off through the luscious forest. She brushed her heavy hair from over her shoulders, dappled sunlight skittering over her. It would be a lot easier soon. Just last night she had sent her new team of sailors out to try a solo trip in the waters around the Island.

She turned onto the white sand beach and waved to an Islander who was walking towards her.

“Good morning Nikau,” Moana said, but noticed the look on his face. “What's wrong?”

Nikau lifted a set of fish traps, or what was left of them. The bottom halves had been torn off, wood splintering savagely. “It happened again last night,” He said, handing her one of the traps.

Moana ran a thumb over the ruined wood. “How many traps were hit?”

“Only a few, but it followed the rotation. One was missing too,” Nikau handed her the other one, “My brother thinks it's a shark, maybe wounded so it can't hunt for itself.”

“I know what Anaru thinks,” Moana compared the two fish traps. The torn wood was identical in both, a wide semi-circle of damage. “What do you think?”

Nikau shrugged his broad shoulders with a sigh. “I don't know what it is. But in shallow waters like these? It's no shark.”

Moana lowered the fish traps and looked at him. When he only shrugged again she turned her head to look outward. Across the ocean. The salt wind mingled in her hair. She watched the waves rise, peak and crash endlessly, and not for the first time she wondered what those clear waters hid.

She shook her head, dragging herself back to the present. “Where were these fish traps placed?”

“They were only the ones closest to the last place we put the traps,” Nikau said, “Which does suggest it's some kind of animal around that area.”

“If it's an animal, we can just rotate the fishing area again,” Moana nodded, passing him back the broken traps, “Try the other side of the island.”

Nikau nodded, “Oh also, Aria and the others were looking for you. They're further up the beach.”

“Oh?” Moana beamed. Aria was the leader of the newest group of sailors she'd trained. “They're back from their sail already? How did they do?”

Nikau winced, “Take a look for yourself.”

Moana shot him worried look and dashed past him. As she ran, the flat strip of white sand curved gently around the island, until the sailors came into view. She saw the canoe first. It was in ruins, the sails nearly entirely eaten away, the mast looked scorched. It made no sense. There had been a storm last night, but there was no lightning that could have struck it—but how else could there be a fire that big at sea?

As she neared them she slowed to a walk, trying to gauge what had happened from their faces. Aria was crouching over the ruins of the canoe, looking lost and a little confused. When she saw Moana she sprung to her feet, nervous, of all things. Her brothers turned to the chief too, snapping out of their daze.

“What happened?” Moana asked, glancing at the canoe.

“I don't know,” Aria said. “It was like—it was like nothing I'd ever seen! It was an hour or so after we'd set out, and the wind was getting very strong, so I was mainly focusing on keeping on course but then there was this huge _whooshing_ sound. Like a gigantic bat. You could only see it struggling in the wind because of how many stars it blotted out.”

“It hit the canoe,” Kauri said, rubbing his hands together nervously. “It was huge. Easily the size of two fully grown men. It was so black, and smooth-scaled, like a fish. It had these huge, wild green eyes and sharp claws. It half-fell in the water and was scrambling to get onto the canoe, it had these huge teeth and claws and I thought it was trying to eat us. I hit it with the oar a few times to trying and knock it off but then—then—”

“It breathed fire,” Aria finished, half-fearful half-awed. “A great plume of blue fire.”

“Is that what set the mast alight?” Moana asked, touching the ashy wood.

Aria nodded. Her other brother, Tai, glanced at the ocean's horizon quickly.

“What happened next?” Moana asked.

“It just flew off,” Aria said. “We had our hands full trying to get back to shore without a mast, so I didn't see where it went.”

Moana looked at the soot that covered her fingers. “What was the shape of the animal's jaw?”

“The jaw?” Aria brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She thought for a moment. “Round, like some kind of fish.”

Moana brushed the ash from her hand. “Tell Nikau not to change the rotation of the fish traps after all. I'm doing a stakeout.”

 

*

 

The night fell softly and slowly. The ocean breeze cooled and stilled as, above her, blue turned to velvet black, and the stars gleamed and glistened. The palm trees shifted and rustled gently, and the last few spots of firelight in the distance winked out.

Moana felt a little drowsy and forced her eyes to stay open. Even though she had a long night of waiting planned, she still had to finish all of her chief duties, and as a result she was dead-tired. She shifted her position, trying to keep herself awake. She was lying on her stomach, shrouded by palm leaves, the fish traps only a little further up the beach. A small canoe was tucked in the bushes to her right, so she could follow the animal over water as well as land.

The black sea rolled over the beach, skimming a layer of sand with it. The top of the fish traps bobbed up and down a few meters out. Sea foam left streaks on the white sand. She could hear the chickens quieten, as even they settled down for the night.

The quiet of the night, the soft sound of the surf… she must have fallen asleep because she was awoken with a crash.

She saw movement in the corner of her eye and she stared.

The animal—it was huge! Black as the night, twice as big as her, heavily muscled with smooth powerful limbs and black claws thicker than her fingers. Two gigantic wings beat the air twice and folded against its sides, a huge tail like a giant eel whipped through the air as it turned. The animal turned in the white sand, searching. It spotted the fish traps and padded heavily out into the water, snatching up the fish trap and snapping the string easily. It tossed it onto the grass, snapped up two others and did the same.

The animal bounded onto the grass. Moana couldn't get over how large it was. Its big, almond-shaped green eyes seemed to have a light of their own, glowing faintly in the dark. The animal tore the bottom of the fish trap off with one flick of its giant head, and threw back the fish. It repeated the trick with one of the other fish traps, nosing around the wreckage of the wood for any fish it had missed.

It took the last fish trap in its claws and lifted it to its mouth. The animal's wide jaws opened and—to Moana's surprise—the teeth retracted, leaving smooth pink gums. It placed one end of the trap between its jaws and didn't crush it, adjusting it a few times to make sure it was balanced. With its lips drawn back and its eyes wide it almost looked comical, kind-of goofy.

The animal spread its huge wings and turned towards the ocean and began to run. Its heavy limbs pounded the earth, and its wings beat furiously, scattering water. It leaped suddenly, wings beating desperately. With a worrying dip, it struggled into the sky, tail shaking.

Moana dashed to her canoe, quickly untying it from the tree. For all that the animal's flight was unstable, it was fast, flying away from the island and out, over the ocean.

The animal started to fall again but managed to catch the wind again. Moana wondered if it was too heavy to fly—there seemed to be something strapped to its back, like padding, although it didn't look very heavy. She noticed its tail flailing around, and the scrap of what looked like red fabric tied to it.

Moana directed the canoe after it, flipping the rope over her hands. She was trying to make as little noise as possible, but the animal seemed preoccupied with avoiding plunging into the sea and didn't even glance behind it.

It flew out, towards a collection of rocks that peaked over the sea. Was that it's nest? Moana kept her stance low out of habit.

The animal reached the stretch of rock that sloped below the sea and landed ungraciously, nearly crumpling its tail under it. It shook its tail behind it, the scrap of fabric folding and unfolding, before shaking its great head and padding into the cave.

Moana docked her canoe only a moment later, tying it quickly to the rock. Her curiosity overruled her good sense and she crept after it.

The animal's gait slowed, and it stopped just inside the cave, dropping the fish trap and pressing its nose into something Moana couldn't really see. Its tail wagged tiredly, and it let out a quiet purring mumble.

Moana kicked a rock, which scattered across the floor of the cave. The noise startled the animal. It froze, ears twitching.

Moana held her breath, watching the gently swinging heavy tail still. She snatched the oar from her canoe.

The animal's head snapped around to stare at her, eyes thin slivers of green. It let out a low rumble, like geyser just before it erupted, and drew back its lips, revealing a line of sharp of white canines.

There was a mumble of speech and something slapped the animal's front paw. Like the flick of a switch, the animal's eyes widened and its ears dropping back. It even lowered its head, turning to snuffle at something Moana couldn't see. Moana lowered the oar. There was another mumble of talk, and the animal huffed. The sounds were weird. It was definitely a person and not an animal making the noise, but it was garbled. It sounded distorted, like she was hearing it underwater.

"Um," Moana asked, "Hello?"

There was an excited burst of speech she didn't catch any of, and the animal lurched forward, as if it had been pushed. Reluctantly, it pressed against one wall to let her pass. She moved along the other-side of the wall, eyeing it nervously, but stopped dead when she saw the person at the end of the cave.

It was a young man, but it was unlike any other person she'd ever seen. His hair was a russet-brown, but his skin was the pale pink of the inside of seashells, thin-skinned like some kind of fish. He looked ashen and completely washed out, the only colour a red graze on his cheek and bright green eyes that seemed to glow with the same light the animal's did.

The young man propped himself up on his elbow, swaying dangerously. He said something, sounding quick and excited.

"I'm sorry," Moana said, "Slow down. I don't understand."

He seemed perplexed, and repeated himself, sounding slightly different each time.

Moana frowned.

He gestured towards his leg with a look of embarrassment.

A bolt of horror struck Moana when she realized what she was seeing. The boy's leg went into the crevase in the rock, swallowed up by it. There was no blood, but Moana couldn't look away, heart hammering. The boy tugged it experimentally and shrugged.

"Stay here," Moana said, leaping up, "Try to stay calm."

The young man said something after her, but she couldn't understand that, either.

 

*

 

Moana watched them carry the strange boy be carried off the canoe, followed closely by the large animal who was nosing him and unsettling the doctor who was inspecting him. He had been unconscious when they had come back, which was a relief because they knew they would have to cut him out of the rock. It turned out his foot had been replaced by metal, but it had still put Moana on edge.

"We will have to have a meeting about this," Chief Tui said, looming over her. "To see what is to be done with him, and if he should stay."

"What?" Moana said, spinning around. "We can't just send him away!"

Chief Tui's stance softened and his expression shifted from 'Chief' to 'Dad', placing a hand on Moana's shoulder. "I know. I know what you have done for him and I would have done the same. But we must discuss this with the elders."

Moana nodded, worry gnawing at her insides.

 

*

“Hey, Moana?"

Moana looked up from fixing a canoe mast, loosening her grip on the tough rope. "Hana!" Moana greeted warmly. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder, smiling up at her. "What do you need?"

Hana was three years younger than Moana but nearly Moana's height, skinny enough to look dwarfed by her mane of black hair. Hana shifted her feet, showing Moana the bowl of Coconut she had prepared.

"Very nice," Moana said, a little confused. "But I already ate."

"Oh," Hana said, pulling the bowl back. "Oh, no I mean—this is for the stranger."

Moana tied the rope off deftly and stood up.

"I was wondering if you wanted to take it to him?" Hana said, "The animal kind of scares me, and you're the first of us he saw so.. it might be nice for him to see a familiar face."

Moana took the coconut bowl from Hana, smiling. "Thanks."

Hana flushed, ducking away.

Moana made her way across the village, and located the hut the stranger was staying in. It was usually reserved for delivering children, but as there were no spare huts they'd had to make do. A grove of coconut trees cast broad shadows across the hut, leaves shifting in the sea breeze. A heavy black tail peaked out of the entrance, flicking in the grass like a snake. She felt herself smile. There was something strangely endearing about the large animal.

She pushed through the entrance, squinting at the sudden gloom.

The stranger had been asleep, under a pile of blankets with the head of his animal resting on his stomach, but he woke up when he heard her enter, blinking wildly. He sat up quickly, pushing the animal off him. The animal let out a huff of annoyance, shuffling to lie next to him instead. He said something incomprehensible, giving her a wave.

Moana waved back, showing him the bowl of coconut.

He grinned at her, beckoning her towards him.

Moana sat down opposite him, straightening the blankets. Without a shirt, the boy looked somehow even paler and thinner, ribs pushing out. His chest was broken up by old scars and a large patch of bruise on his side, presumably from lying on stone for weeks. She passed him the bowl of coconut.The stranger folded his legs, seemingly not bothered that one leg was now significantly shorter than the other. He dipped a finger into the coconut and tasted it experimentally. He smiled, scooping up a larger amount.

The animal pushed its snout against his shoulder and opened its mouth. With a glance at Moana, the young man put a scoop of coconut onto its tongue. The effect was electric. The animal's pupil thinned, its ears drooped and it shivered, shaking the hut. It spat it out, and it landed on the boy's knee.

Moana laughed. The boy, grinning madly, started to laugh too.

The stranger finished the coconut quickly. For a moment, they sat in silence, the stranger looked a little awkward, and then he produced another, whole coconut. The hair had been worn off in places, and it looked a little old. It must have rolled in from the trees outside. He pointed at it.

"What?" Moana said. "That's just an old coconut. It's the same stuff that you were eating."

He frowned and pointed at it again.

Moana took it, and pointed at it. "Coconut," she said.

The stranger wrinkled his nose with concentration. "Coco-nut," He repeated. His voice was strained. "Coconut."

Moana beamed. It was like magic. She pointed quickly at herself. "Moana." she said.

"Mo-na," The stranger said. "Monana?"

"Moana," She repeated.

"Moana," He echoed. The stranger put a thumb on his chest. "Hiccup."

"Hic-chup," She tried. "Hic--hiccup? Hiccup."

The stranger smiled at her. She didn't need to understand him to read the warmth in his features. He patted the animal's snout. "Toothless."

"Toothless," She repeated. She reached out to pat its snout too and the animal gave her an odd look. The stranger--Hiccup--said something to the animal and it glanced at him, before pushing into Moana's outstretched hand. The skin was surprisingly warm, and smooth like river pebbles. She ran a hand up and down its snout, patting it.

"Moana?" Hana poked her head through the entrance. The animal's tail moved and she shrunk away from it, keeping an eye on Toothless. "Moana, the chief wants you to come to the main hut, for a council meeting."

Moana took a deep breath, stealing herself. She scooped up the empty bowl and passed it to Hana, waving goodbye to Hiccup. Outside, the air was already cool with dusk. Streaks of orange stained the sea and the sky, and the palm trees were darkening in the gathering night. The earth was cool under her feet, and hard. In the distance, trees murmured and creaked.

The main hut was always most impressive at dusk. The pillars outside were lit, and sending flickering long shadows across the dark wood. The entrance was a brilliant bright orange and when she stepped inside Moana felt the heat of the fire. The smell was rich and warm and eased her worry a little. Her father waved her over, and gestured to the seat next to him.

Moana took her seat, and smiled when her father looked back at her. The meeting always made her nervous, but knowing her father was on her side made it easier.

More elders and island representatives filtered in as the fully set and the fire was fed a few times more. When the council members had taken their seats and settled, her father stood.

“Honoured council members,” Chief Tui addressed the gathered people, making sure to pause to meet all of their eyes. “This meeting has been called for a specific purpose, which I am sure you are aware of. My daughter, the Co-Chief, discovered a wounded stranger on a rocky outcrop a little beyond the reef.”

Some of the council member’s eyes flickered towards her, but Moana looked straight ahead, keeping her face schooled.

“The stranger is so far harmless, but he brings with him a stranger beast, one that none of us have encountered before. It is the likely the same animal that has been stealing food from the fish traps, and attacked Aria and her group when they were sailing.”

Moana shifted in her seat.

“Moana, you know these this best,” Chief Tui looked at her, “Would you mind describing them further?”

Moana nodded and stood up, waiting until her father had sat down too to start the discussion. “Toothless—the animal—he’s friendly. I don’t think he’d hurting anyone.”

“What about Aria?” One of the council members said, “She said the animal attacked her. Said it breathed fire.”

The crowd murmured. Moana faltered. She had forgotten about what Aria had said. Even though the animal was strange, she couldn’t see it breathing fire. It was simply too strange to imagine.

“It was in the middle of a storm,” Moana said, “We’ve all seen how animals get during a storm. It was probably a mistake. He didn’t harm any of the crew members.”

“But he harmed their ship,” the same council member interjected, twisting a strand of her long hair around her finger. “He completely wrecked it, and has been stealing food.”

Another council member let out a sound that was halfway between a bark and a laugh. “Even if we were to turf this sorry boy and his animal into the sea, it’s not like they could just leave. The animal can’t fly properly, and there’s no land around for miles. Are you suggesting we just tie them to a canoe and push them out to sea?”

The discussion was quickly getting away from her. Moana started, “Wait, let’s—”

“Just because I’m not ready to welcome the stranger with open arms doesn’t mean I hate him, Hine,” The council member responded, shaking his head. “All I think is that we should be cautious. This Island hasn’t had visitors for as long as I can remember. We don’t have to be stupid about this.”

Moana opened her mouth to interject, when someone else spoke first.

“This animal,” An old council member said, brushing a mane of white hair behind her shoulder, “It looks an awful lot like a Mo’o.”

Moana stared. The Mo’o were giant black geckos who could change shape, usually found in fishponds. They could be friendly, or hostile. She had heard tales of Mo’o eating people. Toothless looked strikingly like one, she realised.

“Mo’o aren’t necessarily bad,” Hine started carefully, but the room was starting to murmur, and she was quickly drowned out.

“Hey,” Moana said, trying to quiet the rising noise, “I mean, Toothless has wings so—”

But no-one was listening to her.

Chief Tui stood. “Enough,” He said, and the room fell mostly quiet. “I believe this discussion has gone on long enough. The talk of Mo’o is merely speculation, but it should be taken into consideration. It’s time to vote.”

The council members shifted in there seats and there was some muttering, but they waited.

“All in favour of allowing the stranger to stay on the Island, raise your hand,” Chief Tui asked.

There was a moment of stillness, and then more than half raised their hands.

Chief Tui smiled. “All against?”

The rest raised a hand.

“Alright,” Chief Tui motioned for Moana to stand beside him, “A decision has been made. The stranger will stay here, at least until he gets better. This decision will be reviewed at a later date. Meeting adjourned.”

 

*

 

The next morning, Moana woke up late, and as a result spent the whole morning catching up on her duties. Although she was technically only a Co-Chief, her father had given her all of his smaller duties on top of her regular chores around the Island. She would be busier as a chief, but it was still exhausting.

By the time she was finished, it was late afternoon. The sun was high in the sky and the forest was a vivid, vibrant green. She pushed through the wide leaves where the beach began and walked through the towering coconut trees.

“Good-morning, Moana!” A strange voice said, and she spun around. Hiccup was holding a sheet of dark fabric, under a coconut tree. He had a walking stick to lean on to make up for his missing foot.

“Oh, good morning Hiccup,” Moana said, brightly.

Hana dropped a few coconuts from the top of the tree, waving at Moana. “I’ve been teaching him some words. Just simple names for stuff. He’s a lot less scary without that big animal.”

Hiccup caught the coconuts in the fabric, picking one up and inspecting it.

“They said his animal’s a Mo’o,” Hana continued cheerily. “Do you think it is? That’s so spooky. I wish we could ask him.”

“We—” Moana glanced at Hiccup. It unsettled her, talking like he wasn’t even there. “We can ask him later. When he’s got a better understanding.”

“Do you think that’s why he can’t talk?” Hana swung down from the tree, landing lightly on her feet. “’cause he grew up with Mo’o instead of people?”

“Maybe,” Moana said, with a sigh. She caught Hiccup looking at them, frowning slightly, but he looked away before she could catch his eye. Moana tried to imagine what it would be like if everyone spoke like he did, and that she couldn’t understand anybody or talk back. It must be pretty lonely. “I think he can speak,” Moana decided, looking back at Hana. “I think it’s just that he speaks a different kind of language.”

“Maybe it’s Mo’o-ese,” Hana winked, and Moana rolled her eyes.

Hiccup took the fabric and rolled it around the coconuts, securing it with a knot. He passed it to Hana. “Thank you,” Hana said, throwing the sac over one shoulder.

“You’re welcome,” Hiccup said, smile returning. Although Moana could understand him fine, the words still came out weirdly harsh, as if his mouth hadn’t yet softened to their language.

“So, Moana,” Hana said, leading both of them to the food store. Apparently looking after Hiccup had given her a confidence boost. “Are you done for the day?”

“I wish,” Moana stretched. “I still have to check on Aria and her crew. They’re rebuilding their canoe and they wanted a second opinion on something.” Moana glanced at the sky. The sun was already sinking. “I think I’ll go now.”

Hana nodded, and gave her a little wave. “See you later!”

“Goodbye,” Moana said, glancing at Hiccup.

Hiccup snapped out his daze and waved too. “Goodbye, Moana.”

 

*

 

“Thanks, Moana,” Aria tugged on the new mast, thumping it experimentally. She glanced over the whole canoe. “Does it really matter if it’s a little lopsided.”

“If it’s only a little...” Moana crouched down to inspect the bottom of the ship. “I guess you’d just have to get used to it. But if it’s too wonky, it just won’t steer very well.”

Aria nodded, shaving off another curl of wood. Kauri returned with some new rope, bundled around his neck and arms like a wooly eel.

“Hey, Moana,” Kauri said. “I had an idea about that stranger you found.”

“What is it?” Moana asked.

“Well,” Kauri unwound the rope from his neck and dropped it in a pool at his feet. “Why don’t you teach him to sail? Chief Tui said he’s going to help out with all the chores, but he’s not agile enough to climb for coconuts. He might as well fish or something.”

Moana nodded, thinking hard. It would be nice for him to sail, and with the council being as divided as it was, he might need it. Moana looked back at Kauri. “Is there anything else you guys need? Don’t hesitate to ask,” she said.

“There’s a little but,” Kauri said, unwinding the rope from his neck, “You should go have dinner.” He patted her shoulder with his large hands. “You’re working yourself ragged these days. You need to take some time for yourself.”

Moana nodded, frowning. “But if there’s really anything you need—”

“Then it can wait until morning. We can’t sail tonight anyway,” Kauri said, “At least until Tai is finished sewing the sails.”

Moana nodded, and headed back to the village. The sand was cool under her feet, and the night was dark. Away from the village and the budding sailors, the only sounds were the shifts and sighs of the ocean.

She left the beach, walking up through the dense and damp forest. Leaves brushed her ankles and batted at her forehead. When she emerged, she was on the edge of the band of huts, with Hiccup’s just to her right. She pulled up the fabric entrance and peaked inside.

There was no Hiccup, but Toothless was sprawled out on the hut floor. He looked sick, breathing in heavy, labored huffs, his eyes were barely open. His huge wing flapped at her, twitching slightly. He opened his mouth and sighed.

Moana let the entrance fall back down. What if being on land for so long was too much for him? She walked back towards the center of the village, shaking her head. It was silly to think like that. Toothless wasn’t a Mo’o. For one, he had wings, and for another, although Mo’o did help humans out occasionally, she’d never heard of one taking care of a human for so long.

The center of the village looked at welcoming as ever, the bonfire glowing brilliantly, painting the huts and people a million shades of orange. She spotted Hiccup munching half-heartedly on a cooked fish.

“Hello,” She said, sitting next to him and stretching her feet out to the fire.

Hiccup glanced at her. “Hello.”

Moana picked up an uncooked fish and speared it, holding it out to the flame. Hiccup probably didn’t understand any sailing terms, and it was too late in the day to try to explain to him was a canoe was, so instead she asked, “What’s wrong with Toothless?”

“Toothless?” Hiccup asked.

She nodded.

“He is...” Hiccup frowned, thinking hard. He took a few more bites of his fish. “...sun.”

“The sun?” Moana frowned. She shifted her fish closer to the heart of the flame. “Oh! Hot?”

Hiccup looked at her, lost.

Moana pointed at the fire. “Fire,” She said, and flattened her hand, feeling the warmth of the flame. “Hot.”

Hiccup nodded, throwing the last scraps of fish in the fire. “Toothless is hot.”

 

*

 

At the crack of dawn, before her daily duties, she snuck out of her hut. Her parents were still sleeping, tucked away under covers. She avoided the houses so no-one wakes up. The first light of dawn was so dim she could barely see, and she walked slowly, keeping her arms stretched out in-front of her so she didn’t bump into anything. Moana knew the village so well she didn’t really need to see, and her feet carried her along the winding path to the last hut on the edge of the clearing. Hiccup’s hut.

Behind her, the line where the sky met the sea was glowing like a white-hot wire. Pink stained the morning sky.

Moana opened the hut’s entrance, and Toothless blinked up at her, already awake. Hiccup was curled up a few steps away from him, fast asleep. She beckoned at Toothless. Toothless blinked at her, tiredly.

She beckoned again, gesturing outside the hut.

Toothless rested his round head on his paws and closed his eyes.

With a huff, Moana stepped into the hut. It was a few degrees cooler than outside, but it was still balmy. After a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped her arms around the animal, just behind his front paws, and heaved. Toothless was surprisingly heavy. With a grunt of annoyance, Toothless stood up, shaking his tail.

Moana opened the hut’s entrance, waiting for him. Toothless shot her a dirty look and padded out, smacking her lightly with his tail on his way.

She led him through the forest, having to walk slowly to make sure he kept up. Toothless’ eyes were half-open and dull, and occasionally he stopped, heaving heavily. Eventually they reached the beach, and Toothless pressed his paws into the cool sand.

Moana led him into the ocean.

It was like a curse had been lifted. The minute Toothless’ paw touched the ocean, his eyes flew open. He rolled over, splashing water everywhere. He let out a wheezy, honking sound like laughter, and his pupils grew large, like a baby’s. Moana smiled at him.

Toothless raced out to where the water was deep enough to swim and dived in, disappearing completely. In the low early morning light he was indistinguishable from the long shadows the waves cast, another slippery black shape under the clear blue.

For a worrying moment Moana wondered if that would be the last she saw of him, but the animal resurfaced, shooting her a wobbly, odd smile and diving back down.

 

*

 

Moana found that Hiccup’s schedule was nearly as busy as hers. It turned out that a lot of the Island needed a handyman who could dutifully do simple tasks, especially one who, it turned out, was pretty good at fixing things and building. His language improved daily, and he picked up things like a sponge. It didn’t hurt that he seemed to attract people very easily as everyone was eager to hear about the place he came from and the things he’d seen. The reviving of wayfaring seemed to have sparked people’s imagination.

The bonfire on the sixth night Hiccup was staying at the island was attended by Toothless, who took up a lot more room than people expected. The animal seemed even more receptive to the attention than Hiccup, allowing people to pat him and feed him and the little ones to play with his paws, when their parents let them.

Moana sat next to Hiccup, watching the village’s teenagers crowd around the stranger, asking him questions he mostly understood. It was nice to be able to sit in the background for once. Although she wouldn’t wish for anything else, the responsibility she was inheriting from her father alienated her sometimes.

“C’mon, Toothless,” Hana was waving awa root in front of Toothless’ mouth. She had gotten over her fear of him surprisingly quickly. She tried to pry open the animal’s mouth, but it was shut as tightly as a clam. “I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“Hiccup?” Nikau asked, passing him a bowl of coconut.

Hiccup looked up at him, taking the bowl. “Yes?” He asked.

“What’s your home like?” Nikau asked. He was leaned over Toothless’ middle but the animal brushed him off which a snarl, too hot, and the boy resettled just behind Hiccup.

“Um,” Hiccup took a mouthful of coconut. “Cold.”

“Cold?” Nikau asked. “All the time?”

Hiccup nodded and laughed. “It is winter... forever.”

Nikau shuddered. “That’s pretty bad. Is that why you left?”

Hiccup frowned, and lowered his bowl of coconut. “I—”

“Hiccup!” Hana said, catching the young man’s shoulder and tugging. She prodded the bowl of awa against Toothless’ snout. He grumbled.

“If he… dislikes...” Hiccup frowned at her. He sprinkled some coconut in the fire and muttered something.

“It’s important,” Hana said, pulling the bowl away exasperatedly. “Then we’ll know for sure if he’s a Mo’o.”

Hiccup frowned at her for a moment and sighed. He reached over and scratched just under the hinge of Toothless’ jaws and, like a puppet with its strings cut, the animal relaxed, eyes closing and his mouth fell open.

Hana beamed at him, lifting Toothless’ mouth open.

“Wait, Hana,” Moana started, but Hana waved her off.

“It’ll be fine,” Hana said, and dumped the whole bowl of awa into Toothless’ mouth.

Toothless’ eyes flew open and he leaped to his feet, knocking off the children who had been sitting on his tail. He shot the awa out of his mouth in a burst of fire and into the bonfire. Hana jumped back, beating fire from her skirt.

Hiccup waited for everyone’s reaction, holding his breath.

“So he really does breathe fire?” Nikau said, scratching his chin. “I though Anaru was lying about that, if I’m honest.”

Hana seemed to be the only one upset, and she went to sit as far away as she could from Toothless. Toothless seemed to prefer that too, growling after her. Moana leaned over to him and scratched his neck, just behind his ears and he rumbled happily.

 

*

 

On a long, hazy day Moana took him out by the reef. The sun made the ocean blinding, but the wind was all but gone, barely enough to ripple the water. They were far enough out that the island looked like a thick stripe of bright green the size of Moana’s forearm.

Hiccup was already surprisingly seaworthy. He stood with his legs spaced and balanced, kept one hand on the mast for balance, and already knew to check the clear waters for large corral. The staff he was using to stand with was firmly wedged between two planks.

“Wayfinding mostly uses stars,” Moana said, when the canoe had stilled. “But it can use the sun too. It’s all about knowing where your island is, and where you are relative to it. If you know which direction you are going in, and how far you’ve been going that way, it all becomes a lot easier.”

“What about… if you’ve lost?” Hiccup asked. His grasp of language was getting much better, but was still lagged by strange pauses.

“Oh. Like in a storm?” She paused, and said, “I suppose it would be much harder. If you could see any landmarks, that would make it much easier, but if you don’t… it’s down to what you feel, you know? You might know the way home by feel alone.”

Hiccup watched the horizon, and odd expression crossing his face. His eyebrows knitted together and he chewed his lip.

Moana watched him, hanging off the rope. She wanted to ask what he was thinking about, but she wasn’t sure it was the right place. The canoe bumped over a small wave, rocking in its place. A dark shape she identified as Toothless slipped through the corral a few canoe lengths again, the animal’s broad head broke the surface before slipping under again.

“Moana...” Hiccup said, looking out into the water. He gestured to the ocean, “Your name?”

“Yeah, it means Ocean,” Moana smiled. “It was the first thing my mother saw when she had me. Said its beauty reminded her of me.” She blushed, realizing that without the constant retelling of that story the rest of the island had endured, Hiccup might think she was bragging.

Hiccup just smiled. Toothless broke the surface of the water by the canoe and pushed his head on board. Hiccup pulled a salted fish from inside his jacket and fed it to him.

“What about your name?” Moana asked, “What does Hiccup mean?”

Hiccup laughed, nervously. “It means…” He scratched the back of his neck, “...when you laugh hard? Or eat too quick?” He mimed hiccuping.

Moana laughed before she realized Hiccup might take offense, and stifled her laughter. “Are you serious?” she asked.

Hiccup nodded. His pale skin made his flush all the more furious, blooming patchily over his cheeks like an odd flower.

“What about Toothless?” Moana asked.

“Sometimes, he has got no teeth,” Hiccup said.

Moana smiled, “I’ve noticed. Why is that?”

Hiccup shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Moana watched the dark shape slip away. Despite his wings, he was surprisingly sleek in the water, but she had returned to believing he was some other creature than a Mo’o. The Awa root had pretty much proved that.

Moana pulled the oar back into the ship. “The first thing you need to know about sailing,” she started, “Is what it’s all called.”

Hiccup brightened, standing up.

 

*

 

It had taken a good few weeks, but Hiccup had finally managed to whittle a new foot from wood that had been originally cut for the fire. Although the trees looked strange and bore odd fruit, it proved ideal for building, being springy and hard. Wood wouldn’t last as long as metal, so he would have to make spares, but it was much better than hobbling around with a staff.

Toothless nosed the foot experimentally when he had finished, and flicked his tail.

Hiccup shook his head and detached the artificial fin and pulled the fin that let the dragon fly on his own from his bag. The gears were old and unused, and for lack of oil he’d rubbed them together to wear away some of the stiffness.

Toothless snorted, tearing his tail away. He arched his back indignantly.

“It’s not like that,” Hiccup said, in Norse. His mouth felt odd and tired from speaking the new language, but Norse felt as easy and quick as ever. “We don’t have a choice, buddy.”

Toothless flicked his tail sharply.

“C’mon,” Hiccup showed him his wooden leg. “It’s not like I _want_ to look like Gobber.”

Toothless snorted, but jerked his tail towards Hiccup. Catching it, Hiccup sat down quickly, strapping the fin to his tail and jumping off.

With another snort, Toothless shook his tail, opening and closing the fin experimentally. There was a slight delay but otherwise it worked fine. He raised his tail like he was going to smash it off, but decided against it, settling the tail down and looking at Hiccup expectantly.

“There you go, Bud. You’re all set,” Hiccup said. He opened the hut entrance and gestured for him to go outside.

Toothless took a few steps through the hut entrance and looked back. Toothless looked up at the sky and then back towards Hiccup.

“What?” Hiccup asked, stepping outside.

Toothless leaped at him, head hitting Hiccup’s middle and flipping him over his head onto the dragon’s back. Hiccup landed with a yelp of surprise, and as soon as he was secure Toothless was off, sprinting through the village, scattering Islanders.

With two lurching jumps Toothless hit the sky. His broad wings stretched thin, glowing in the strong morning sun.

The wind welcomed Hiccup with a heavy roar, flattening him against the dragon’s back. The pound of Toothless’ wings rattled his teeth.

They broke through the clouds with a sudden silence. The island was spread out before them, a lop-sided, rough circle. Toothless glided, turning gently to arch high above the mountains. The land below them was green, such impossible, incredible green that it was like a whole new colour. And the blue of the sky and the sea nearly stopped his heart in amazement every morning. It felt like stepping into a new world, a brighter, fresher one, and in comparison his memories of Berk were flat, cold and dead. A dull pain sparked in his chest like an old wound.

The wind picked up to there left and Toothless turned away from it, dipping down to skin the tops of the lucious trees, knocking a few coconuts off in the process. The low pain in Hiccup’s chest deepened as Toothless’s tail caught a branch, sending a dozen beautiful birds scattering.

“Hiccup!” Moana called from the mountaintop.

Toothless swerved upwards, wings opening wide before landing neatly, barely disturbing the earth. He nosed Moana cheerily, padding carefully to avoid the old stack of stones in the center of the mountaintop.

“Moana,” Hiccup said, trying to push down the sadness that was rising in him.

“He can fly?” Moana said, rubbing Toothless’ snout.

“His tail needed replacing,” Hiccup said, slipping off Toothless’ back. Toothless sat down neatly, curling his tail around him.

“How long have you been flying?” Moana asked. She admired the clean metal of Toothless’ tail. He opened and closed it for her, and she watched the gears move.

“A few years,” Hiccup said, tiredly.

“Are you alright?” Moana asked, frowning.

“I’m fine,” Hiccup said, setting off down the path of the mountain.

Moana watched him go, a mixture between anxiety and sympathy spoiling her stomach. She already had a good idea of what was wrong. She gave Toothless one last pat and ran after him. “Wait, Hiccup!”

Hiccup stopped and looked back at her.

Moana glanced back at the dark animal who was peeking down the hill at them. “Could you… teach me how to fly Toothless?”

“Toothless?” Hiccup laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know. No one but me has flown with him...”

Moana waited.

“If he’ll let you,” Hiccup said, finally.

 

*

 

Chief Tui looked out across the calm surf, and listened to the laughter the wind carried in from beyond the reef. His daughter and the stranger were bringing their canoe in, and the stranger’s large animal was shooting them with hot jets of water. The stranger slipped on the corral, and the animal snapped him up by the back of his old shirt and dragged him onto the canoe again.

The canoe docked a little further down the beach, and Chief Tui walked over.

“It’s just like a larger version of that outcrop of rocks!” The stranger was saying, helping Moana pull the canoe higher across the beach. “That’s what Berk looks like, really.”

“Really?” Moana said, “But where do you grow food?”

“They’re some flatter islands around it,” Hiccup said, and then spotted the Chief. He smiled and gave a nervous wave.

“How far away is Berk?” The Chief asked, resting a hand on the side of the canoe.

“Um,” Hiccup frowned, “It’s quite far. I don’t really know. I got lost.”

The Chief nodded, paused for a moment and then asked, “Could I talk to Moana in private for a second?”

“Oh! Yeah, of course,” Hiccup beckoned to Toothless and hurried off, disappearing through the thick trees. The Chief had seen the boy fly around the island in one long, graceful swing, but on land both him and his animal walked a little awkwardly.

Moana brushed her hair behind her shoulder. She tugged on the rope and loosed the sails, which folded with a thump. “What is it, Dad?” She asked, glancing back at him.

“I was wondering,” Her father started, but paused. He looked out across the surf at the endless, flat blue sea. An odd, unknowable feeling spread through his chest, like his ribs were too heavy. He watched the wind bring bulky tides that lost momentum to end as a thin lapping foam. He looked back at his daughter. “I was wondering if you would teach me... to sail?”

Moana stared. He face brightened and broke into a brilliant grin. She gripped his arms and beamed, “Yes! Yes of course!” She jumped back on the canoe and stretched out the sail quickly, tying it down. With two heavy shoves the canoe hit the water, bobbing gently. “Do you want to go right now?”

Chief Tui flushed, nerves sparking in his chest, but he pushed them down. Cautiously, he took a step onto the canoe. He was half expecting it to crumble underneath him. He stood, looking at his daughter. “Alright,” He said.

 

*

 

Hiccup helped Moana onto Toothless’ back, making sure she was settled before backing away.

“It’s not too hard,” Hiccup said. “Right now it’s mainly about staying on.”

Moana hooked her legs around Toothless’ chest, finding the stirrups. The metal was cool against her bare feet.

“Don’t worry too much,” Hiccup said, rubbing Toothless’ snout. The dragon pushed against Hiccup’s hand. “He likes you. He knows what he’s doing.” Moana nodded, and wrapped her arms around Toothless’ neck too. She could barely see Hiccup over Toothless’ flicking ears. Hiccup stepped away, clearing the runway.

In two quaking leaps Toothless hit the air.

Suddenly the air came thick and fast, tearing Moana’s hair back and forcing her eyes shut. Terrible shaking spread through Toothless’ back, shuddering her shoulders and jostling her jaw. She gripped the saddle as tightly as she could. It felt like being dragged through the ocean.

Another beat of his wings and it shook her so violently her heart lurched.

She had no idea how high up they were. Riding Toothless was so unlike anything Moana had ever done. The animal was electric underneath her, muscles shifting and gliding and it was all she could do to stay on. The animal twisted and the wings caught the air.

Silence. Just as suddenly as it had started, the shaking had stopped. She opened her eyes cautiously.

The view was incredible.

It felt like she was weightless. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed painfully, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. It was overwhelming—It was beyond anything she had ever imagined. The island was displayed perfectly beneath her, intricate and tiny. Instead of the ordered, neat arrangements of houses she remembered from walking among the huts her whole life, the village looked messy from the sky. The thick forest overtook nearly the entire island, with the huts clustered near the beach, like nature was pushing it out to sea.

The mountain loomed in front of them like a wall and Toothless cut through the air, skimming past.

The wind slammed into Moana’s face and she ducked back against Toothless’ neck. The sight of the Island was burned into her brain. She had been trying to put it out of her mind for the past few years, since soon after her return. Ever since she had tasted the outside world, the restless had been hard to keep down, and the stranger’s appearance had only kicked up her imagination.

Toothless seemed to notice her discomfort, and threw his wings wide, slowing. The blur of colour around them seemed to solidify into shapes again, huts the size of her fingernail, miniature boats coming and going across the surf.

Moana leaned over Toothless’ shoulder and found herself smiling. It was beyond amazing. It was this kind of wonder that lit up the fire in her bones, and if this was what Hiccup saw when he travelled, she was supremely jealous.

With a swift shift of Toothless’ tail, they landed suddenly. But Hiccup was nowhere to be seen.

“Hiccup?” Moana asked, slipping off Toothless’ back. A few Islanders glanced at her, but there was no sign of the strange boy. Toothless stood on his hind paws, straining his neck to look over the trees, but was still too short and dropped down heavily.

Moana walked through the village, the animal keeping close to her side. When she broke through the line of the trees and across the beach, she spotted him near the edge of the water, crouching on the sand.

She sprinted towards him, nearly bursting with excitement. “Hiccup!” Moana nearly shouted, “Hiccup that was incredible! Everything looked so—so...” She trailed off when she saw his expression.

Hiccup was kneeling on damp sand, clenched hands stained dark. His eyebrows were knitted together, and his expression was grim.

Moana knelt next to him. Toothless glanced between them, pawing the ground a little. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

Hiccup sighed through his nose and opened his hands. Glistening in the palm of his hands was a huge, bloodied scale.

 

*

 

They flew out to where the water grew deep and green. The wind died down to almost nothing, and toothless glided in silence. He flew slowly, and low enough that every beat of his wings narrowly missed the surface of the water. Below them, the ocean tensed and relaxed, like the muscles of some colossal beast. The island faded to nothing behind them.

In Moana’s palm, sharp against her fingers, the scale shined dully. It was as dark green as the water below them, almost black. They had found three more, brought in by the tide. It was an odd thing, odder when they had dried them and inspected them closely. On one side it was rough like bark, but the other was so smooth it felt almost wet.

Toothless flew on.

It felt like hours passing, but Hiccup still didn’t relax. Moana tightened her grip around his waist and watched the water. The wind hadn’t picked up, but the water grew choppy. Foam spat and rolled.

A mist had gathered ahead, thickening until Moana could barely see the water beneath them. Something dark loomed ahead of them, large as an island and stretched across the horizon. Both Moana and Hiccup leaned forward, trying to make it into something real. Suddenly, the dark shape moved, dipping downwards.

Toothless shrieked.

Ropes wrapped around the animal’s neck, binding suddenly and tightly. Hiccup tore at them, fumbling for his knife, but he couldn’t get his fingers under the ropes.

They lurched, and were dragged from the sky.

Moana hit something hard and her head rattled. Her hip twisted on impact, leg trapped under Toothless’ weight, elbow connecting hard with the floor. The dragon leaped up in an instant, snapping and snarling at the ropes, but it took a moment for Moana to blink the stars from her eyes.

“Who are you?” Hiccup asked, and Moana looked up.

A thin man dropped the end of Toothless’ ropes. He was even paler than Hiccup, his skin was white-blue and nearly transparent, and his hair was a violent, brilliant red, like an open wound. He smiled, “I’ve got to say, that was surprisingly easy.”

Moana scrambled up, looking around wildly. They were on a ship, but it was unlike any ship Moana had ever seen. It was bigger than a hut, bordered with oar holes that were split through with twisting gold decorations, but she could see no oars. Just behind them a mast stretched up into the fog, holding two huge white sails.

“Where are we?” Hiccup said, and slipped into Norse, whispering questions more to himself than anything else. Toothless sniffed at the wood beneath their feet, a low grumble rising in his chest.

Moana stood up straight, ignoring the dull ache in one of her legs and the string of bruises forming across her shoulder and elbow. “Who are you?” She demanded, squaring her shoulders. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The man folded his long arms, smiling sharply. “You, I can understand not recognizing me, but the young viking? After the debt he owes me?”

Hiccup glanced at him, a heavy expression of confusion weighing his features. “I don’t think...” He trailed off, eyes searching the canoe. He swallowed thickly. “When I was lost… over the ocean, was that—?”

The man continued smiling.

Hiccup scowled, shoulders tensing, gripping his knife. Toothless curved to his side, spines lifting and eyes narrowing. “ _Loki_ ,” Hiccup whispered.

Moana stepped closer to Hiccup.

“Guilty as charged,” The man watched the dragon with a quirk to his smile. He raised his eyes to Moana. “For those who don’t know, I am a God. A little like your Maui, I suppose.”

“You are _nothing_ like Maui,” Moana scowled, “And if you were a God, how come I’ve never heard of you?” Hiccup glanced back at her in surprise, but the man just laughed.

“I’m a God of darker pastures than here. I suppose I do stick out like a sore thumb, but don’t worry, I am still powerful here. The Æsir are like the rocks, unchanging and solid, rooted firmly to the northlands, but I wear many shapes and names, and I am as powerful here as in the heart of Asgard. You still have much to fear.”

Moana narrowed her eyes.

“You don’t believe me,” The man tilted his head. He looked bemused. “You know, I was hoping to avoid this. Shows of power are so uncivilised, you know.”

The man stretched out both of his arms and Hiccup flinched. Moana glanced at him, and back to the man. Blue and green veins showed through the translucent skin on his wrists, and before her eyes they seemed to shift, twisting like tiny snakes. The man brought one arm in front of him, fingers twisted like he was holding something. The snakes started to writhe, frenzied.

The man flicked his wrist, a motion like cracking an egg, and Hiccup’s knees gave out.

Hiccup collapsed, and Moana knelt next to him quickly. He was clutching at his chest, tearing at his shirt, face twisting in pain. His breath came in sharp, labored gasps, broken by long periods of dreadful silence. “What—what did you do!” Moana asked, frantically.

The man twisted his hand.

Hiccup let out a gasping, reedy whine, curling up, trying to shield his chest. His face was turning red, tears spilling over his cheeks. Toothless was yapping and jumping, tail whipping wildly.

Moana leaped to her feet, advancing on him. “Stop it!” She swung at him but he ducked backwards. She sent a kick his way that hit thin air. “Enough!” She boomed.

The man dropped his arms.

Hiccup collapsed, flat on the deck. He screwed his eyes shut, breathing heavily. Toothless pushed his nose into Hiccup’s side, snuffling at him.

“You see how easily I caught his heart in my palm? I considered doing something like that to your whole village,” Loki said, running a finger and thumb over his jaw. “But I thought it would be a little excessive.”

Moana dropped to Hiccup’s side and cupped his face, checking his pulse over and over. She set Loki a look of pure loathing.

Loki scoffed. “My, such hatred. I suppose this Maui really is nothing like me, then?”

Moana pulled Hiccup up to a sitting position. He was breathing heavily. “What do you even want from us?” Moana asked, scowling.

“Not ‘us’,” Loki said, “You.”

“Me?” Moana asked, glaring, “You’re his God.”

“And I need something from one of your Gods,” Loki said, “I need the heart of Ta Fiti.”

Ice slipped down Moana’s spine. She stopped breathing for a second. “What?”

“I want you to take the heart of Ta Fiti from her, and give it to me,” Loki said, “Or I will kill everyone in your village.”

Moana stared.

“Don’t be so upset,” Loki said, “It took millenia for the corruption to reach your island the first time. It will take at least that to reach it again. I will return it to your village when I am done, so your great granddaughter can deliver it back.”

“I can’t!” Moana snapped, “I can’t take her heart.”

Loki’s eyes shone bright with something that was gone too quickly to identify. His smile didn’t waver. The boat rolled and rocked to a stop, stilling suddenly. At some point the mist had cleared, and the ocean was brilliant blue again, but Moana just glared at the God.

“I’d think about it a bit more if I were you,” Loki said.

Moana noticed green in the corner of her eye and glanced around. They had were around the back of the Island, where the dark trees bordered almost straight on the water. From behind, the mountains looked like a turned back, tall but stooping. Hiccup pushed off Moana, standing up shakily.

Moana stood. Toothless snorted and stood too, shaking his wings out. He snapped at Loki threateningly.

Loki leaned back on the boat, “You have the rest of the day and the night to say your goodbyes and gather supplies. I’d advise against telling them your real motive, but tell them something believable. Visiting family? Scouting for land? Helping this lost viking get home? Whatever it is,” Loki gestured to the thin beach, “If you haven’t set off by dawn, I’ll kill everyone in your village.”

Moana glared at him, swinging off the boat. It was surprisingly tall and she hit the beach hard. Hiccup climbed down slowly, one hand on his aching chest, followed quickly by Toothless. Loki waiting for them to be safely on the beach, gave them a cheery wave and set off again. The huge boat moved unnaturally fast, cutting through the water like a knife.

Hiccup watched him go, massaging his sternum. Toothless nosed at him, and he scratched behind the dragon’s chin half-heartedly, reassuring him in Norse. The three of them stood in silence for what felt like an age, long after the boat had disappeared from sight. Hiccup breathed deeply. “We have to set off.”

“What?” Moana asked, sharply.

“We don’t have a choice, Moana,” Hiccup said, “Loki will kill everyone if we don’t.”

“You haven’t seen what I’ve seen,” Moana said, stalking through the forest, “You didn’t see what it did to her! I can’t do that again!”

Hiccup limped after her, battered by leaves, “Moana—”

“What about the other islands? What if the islands she will end up corrupting have people on them too?!” Moana rubbed at her eyes furiously, “What if my great grandchild can’t put it back? What if it can’t be taken again?!”

“Moana we don’t have to take the heart!” Hiccup shouted.

Moana turned, a tear escaping her eye. “What? But you—you said...”

“We can tell Loki we’ll get it for him, but on the way we’ll contact Maui some how and he’ll sort out Loki,” Hiccup leaned on a tree, breathing heavily, “I don’t know Maui, but if he’s anything like Thor, he should be able to put that weasel in his place.”

Warmth filled her chest. She clenched her fist, straightening her shoulders. “Right! That’s what we’ll do,” She said, grinning.

Hiccup smiled back.

“Alright,” Moana said, wiping her cheeks, “You gather supplies, I’ll get a canoe. Don’t let anyone see you.”

Hiccup nodded, and they split up.

 

*

 

When they met again, the sky had darkened and the air was cool with night. The twilight of the evening blended everything a deep blue, and Hiccup sat nervously on the deck of the largest canoe Moana could find, which, as it happened, still felt far too small. He had been doing dangerous and risky things for a long time now, living the life of a viking, but this still felt significantly different, for some reason. Maybe it was that he still didn’t feel at ease here, on this new island, or maybe it was the first time a real God had been involved. Until a few hours ago, he had doubted their existence entirely, although he definitely wouldn’t be telling Moana that...

Hiccup watched the dark trees flutter, unsure of how to feel. Toothless rested his huge head on Hiccup’s, letting out a huff that blew his hair into his eyes. For the last few days he had fallen asleep to the murmur of the surf, and he was starting to drift off again, but snapped awake when he heard the sound of footsteps under the noise.

“Hey,” He said. “Have you said your goodbyes?”

Moana nodded, lips pursed. She climbed onto the canoe, eyebrows knitted together.

Hiccup watched her. He frowned, a suspicion worming into his mind, “Did you tell your parents?”

Moana froze. She had been casting off, but was staring at the rope in her still hands. She hesitated, and shook her head.

“I did the same,” Hiccup said. “It was a mistake.”

Moana looked up at him.

Hiccup opened his mouth to continue, but found he couldn’t. He chewed the inside of his mouth, casting a glance across waters so different to his own. “The reason I’m here…” Hiccup said, slowly. “I’m here because me and Toothless went out in a storm. I didn’t tell anyone I was going. I… I was looking for a storm dragon.”

Moana frowned, “A storm dragon?”

“A dragon, a little like Toothless,” Hiccup explained, patting the dragon’s head, “but grey and thin and long.”

Moana stared at Toothless, and tried to picture it. She imagined something eel-like, as thin as a ribbon, a deep grey with toothless’ huge eyes and as fast as a hurricane. It was horrifying.

“My father...” Hiccup swallowed thickly. “He… passed, a few months ago. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I wasn’t in the habit of letting people know what I was doing. I got lost in the storm and now… now I’m here.”

Moana watched him intently. His expression was hidden in the twilight, only the moonlight glint of his eyes were visible.

“Every time I think of home I worry about it,” Hiccup said, “They don’t know where I am, if I’m dead or alive, if I went of my own accord or if I was taken, they don’t know if I ever plan on coming home. And the worst part… the worst part is I didn’t take the chance I had to say goodbye.”

A strange feeling filled Moana’s chest, like something crumbling gently. An uncomfortable heat bloomed through her neck and face. She bowed her head, and slipped off the canoe, her feet hitting the water with a little splash. “I won’t be a moment,” She whispered.

Hiccup rubbed at his eyes, nodding.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

 

They sailed in silence. Toothless slept soundly, curled around the base of the mast. The thin tapestry of stars stretched over their heads. The sea nudged at them. Moana glanced back at Hiccup, keeping him in the corner of her eye. Hiccup sat, watching the horizon, for what felt hours. He kept one hand on his chest and the other on Toothless’ head. He broke the silence with a sigh, “Let’s take shifts,” He said, tiredly.

Moana nodded, and Hiccup curled up around Toothless.

She sailed. Night gave way, piece by piece to day. Orange and red soaked through the sky and strained the water. Moana tugged at the ropes and wind filled the sails. The canoe turned and jumped over the waves, shaking. It rose high over a wave, was suspended in air for a moment, before hitting the sea again.

Hiccup woke up with a start. He stared at Moana like he didn’t recognize her, looking out across the flat, endless sea around him. He swallowed thickly, brushing his damp hair from his face. “It’s so hot,” he said, voice cracking.

“There’s no shade here,” Moana said, twisting the rope around her hand. She wasn’t fond of the heat either, but it only grew worse as the year continued. The weather hadn’t yet shaken the winter’s restraint.

Hiccup pushed himself onto his knees. “Do you want to swap over?”

Moana tied the rope smartly, straightening. “I’m okay.”

Hiccup pressed a hand to Toothless’ neck. The dragon opened one eye, huffing heavily. “Sorry buddy,” He said, running a hand over Toothless’ shoulders.

Hiccup tugged his shirt off with some difficulty. The old material stuck to his sweaty shoulders and he struggled for a moment to dislodge it. His back was littered with of old scars. Moana caught a glimpse of a broad burn that covered one hip.

Hiccup dipped his shirt in the ocean water, shook it out under water and pulled it back. Water sloshed over the canoe and Hiccup dropped the sodden fabric on the dragon’s back. The dragon hummed happily, and Hiccup repeated the trick a few times until Toothless glistened. Hiccup collapsed onto the deck, hiding his face under Toothless’ wing, and fell back asleep.

 

*

 

The sun rose high in the sky and Hiccup seemed to wilt, slipping into a heat-daze that drained all the sense from his head. He only took over sailing once, a shift that started in the evening and ended halfway through the night, and he was so clumsy he often woke Moana up by dropping things or, a few times, falling in.

Toothless was even worse. He hardly woke up, even when hiccup poured more water on him. He moved occasionally, snarled a little or blinked, but for the most part just slept.

Progress was still good, and by Moana’s reckoning, they would reach land by morning. The sea churned and the canoe shuddered. Cold seeped through the canoe’s floorboards. Moana shifted her weight, turning the boat slightly.

A pair of dark birds wheeled and turned in the blue sky, breaking through the thin clouds.

Hiccup pushed Toothless’ wing off him and sat up, brushing the damp hair from his forehead. His shirt had dried onto Toothless’ back and was crusted with salt. He sighed through his nose, looking out at the flat horizon.

Moana spotted a smudge of land in the horizon, and directed the boat towards it. The mechanical strain and turn of the boat was comforting, somehow.

“We haven’t seen Loki yet,” He said, dipping his feet in the water.

Moana glanced away from the horizon. Hiccup looked sick. He was paler than ever and shined with sweat. His eyes were red-rimmed. There was an odd bruise in the center of his chest, five green-purple fingermarks and the yellowing shadow of a palm.

“What’s Loki like?” Moana asked.

“Loki?” Hiccup frowned. “From the myths? He’s… well, he’s a trickster. He’s not really one thing or another.” Hiccup pulled his feet from the water and folded his legs. “He’s smart. Whenever the Gods have a problem, their last resort is Loki, because he can always solve it for them. But he’s usually the cause of the problems too.”

“Does he have any weaknesses?” Moana asked.

Toothless murmured in his sleep, and when he moved the whole boat rocked. Hiccup was silent for a moment. “I can’t think of any,” He admitted, “The only times he’s been beaten is when he’s physically overpowered. Which I don’t think is much of an option.”

“Maui might be able to,” Moana mused.

Hiccup nodded, leaning against Toothless’ side.

The island grew closer, although large waves still occasionally eclipsed it. Gathering night darkened the waves. They looked like a dozen gigantic snaked diving together, light glinting off their broad, uneven scales.

“You said Loki served the other Gods,” Moana said, “Could that be happening now?”

Hiccup frowned. “You mean, someone at Asgard could want the stone?”

“It’s possible,” Moana said, “That’s what the heart was stolen for in the first place. As a gift. It was for Mankind.”

Hiccup was quiet.

The night darkened, and the stars came out.

 

*

 

The sea was blinding at dawn. White light pulsed over the waves, and Hiccup squinted hard. The shadowy corner of the Island loomed huge, just behind the sun. He stood, swaying slightly. His shoulders and back ached fiercely, like his skin had been sandpapered off. A large part of him desperately wanted to swim in the chill water of the ocean, but he knew the salt would only make it worse.

“Hiccup...” Moana started, eyeing him. “What happened?”

Hiccup touched his arms gingerly. “It’s sunburn.”

Moana frowned.

Hiccup shrugged, “It happens.” He lifted his elbows to stop from sticking to himself. Discomfort still curdled in his stomach, but he had acclimatized to the heat a little. “It’s kind of how I get these,” He pointed to the splotchy freckles over the bridge of his nose.

“It looks painful,” Moana said.

Hiccup grinned sheepishly, “It is.”

Moana winced in sympathy, and arranged the ropes, bringing the boat in to dock. The tall island cast a long shadow over the surf, and Hiccup sighed in relief, stepping into the shallow water. Toothless was decidedly less graceful, slipping off like a huge fish. The splash he caused rocked the boat.

Trees towered over them. The beach was short and steep, broken through with roots. Sand sucked at Hiccup’s feet, and with a kick his unearthed a dozen smooth shells.

“What is this place?” Hiccup asked.

“It’s where I met Maui,” Moana said, tying the boat to a sturdy-looking tree root.

Hiccup paused, “Do you think he’ll come back here?”

Moana sighed, and pulled the sack of supplies from the boat, slinging it over her shoulder. With the other hand she tugged at Toothless’ tail, trying to convince him to come out of the water and follow them. “I don’t know,” She admitted.

“We can think about it later,” Hiccup stretched. “In the mean time...” He unbuckled his knife’s sheathe from around his waist and tossed it at her.

Moana caught it. It was surprisingly heavy, and hard. She pulled out the knife, watching light slip smoothly over the sharp blade. There were carvings along the spine of the knife, in a language she couldn’t read. “Why are you giving this to me?” She asked, sheathing the knife.

“Even if you can’t use it to fight, it would be good to have one,” Hiccup said, pulling his sword from his luggage. “They’re surprisingly useful.”

Moana pulled it around her waist and buckled it successfully after a few tries. She already had a knife in her bag, but it was old and she had no sheathe for it. The material the sheathe was made with was weird, tough but smooth, slightly furry on the inside. “Thank you,” She smiled at him.

Hiccup pulled a clean shirt on, “If you want me to teach you to fight with it, just ask. We’ve got some time.”

“Is that how you got those scars?” Moana asked, “From knife fights?”

Hiccup grinned, sheepishly, “Not really. Maybe this one,” He pointed through his shirt to a thin scar that cut through his collarbone and tailed off a hand’s width from his sternum, “But the rest are from dragons.”

“You’re been fighting dragons?” Moana asked, raising an eyebrow. They reached the other-side of the island, the side she’d washed up on four years ago. The low beach ahead sloped gently into the water, bordered by a dark cave and scattered rocks.

“Not deliberately,” Hiccup said, sticking to the shade. “But you know dragons,” Toothless rubbed against his legs, nearly knocking him over, “They’ve got big claws and teeth, and when they get agitated they tend to scratch the person nearest to them. Which is usually me.”

Moana dropped the luggage into the cave. It would make a good place to sleep, sheltered from the rain and wind, and the cool of the rocks might make it easier for Hiccup and Toothless to sleep properly. “What makes these dragons so agitated?” She asked, perching on the edge of a large rock.

“Training them,” Hiccup sat in the shadow of a huge palm tree. “Getting them to trust you is usually the hardest part. When you’ve got a dragon’s trust, there’s not much else you need.”

Moana watched the surf roll in, carrying rippling ribbons of foam. “How many dragons did your island have?”

“More than it used to,” Hiccup shrugged. “More than one for every person, that’s for sure. And it depends on the season too, some dragon species only hang around in the summer—so that’s only a few days a year.” He grinned.

“Do they all look like Toothless?” She asked.

“No,” Hiccup rubbed the top of Toothless’ head, with a sigh. “None of them look like Toothless. I think he’s the last Night Fury.”

“The last?” Moana stared at Toothless, who was drifting to sleep on Hiccup’s knee. “What happened to the others?”

“Well...” Hiccup leaned back against the rough bark of the tree. He watched a dark bird turn sharply in the air, like a kite. It flew across the sun, and dipped back towards the ocean. “My island didn’t always welcome dragons. They had hunted them for long before I was born. They’d killed vikings before, and taken our livestock, destroyed our houses. Toothless was among them, his kind was the fastest and most dangerous.” Hiccup’s hand rested on Toothless’ smooth head. “Vikings had hunted Night Fury for generations. They were generally the most difficult to catch, so killing one showed your strength. I caught Toothless when I was fifteen, but I couldn’t kill him.” He ran a finger over the small spines on Toothless’ head. “I saw myself in him.”

“So what did you do?” Moana asked.

“I hid him,” Hiccup said, “And I helped him fly again. The rest of the Island learned that dragons weren’t to be feared… eventually.”

Moana smiled, watching the sky.

They sat together, listening to the surf and watching the skyline in a comfortable silence. The heat that had plagued them on the ocean seemed tamer, although it still nestled uncomfortably around Hiccup’s hands and cheeks. Toothless fell into a deep sleep, huffing occasionally. Moana cooled her feet in the water.

“I’m kind of thirsty,” Hiccup said, rubbing his face, “I’m going to look for a spring or something.”

Moana nodded, almost to herself. “I’ll set some fish-traps up, if we’re staying the night.” She dug through the bags of luggage, retrieving the little wooden traps.

Hiccup managed to heave Toothless from his legs and waited for the feeling to return to his feet before padding off.

The sudden darkness of the forest was a shock and he had to pause again, blinking sight into his eyes. Dappled shadows made the green of the trees deeper, seemed to thicken and chill the air until it was almost soupy. Keeping an eye on the ground to avoid stubbing his toe on the mounds of rock that seemed nearly indistinguishable in the dark, he pressed on.

Deeper he went, until the trees towered like mountains over him, and hardly any light was strained through the canopy. Hesitating, he glanced back the way he had come. The beach was still visible in a thin shaft of light a few hundred paces back. He swallowed.

Hiccup leaned against a tree. Damp moss soaked through his shoulder blades. Why was it so wet here? He considered returning, but heard a splash. It was to the right, and when he pushed his way through some scrubby underbrush he stumbled into a clearing.

A blue lake lay out before him, reflecting the blue sky above it. The waters were brilliant and clear, and he could see the speckled grain of the smooth rock underneath. Nothing grew close to the water, and the earth looked greyish and dusty.

But what caught his attention most was the dragon curled on the bank, its long tail making little waves in the water. The dragon was wingless, and smoother even than Toothless, light dripped over its sides like a sheen. Its triangular head flowed seamlessly its snake-like body, and a tall row of spines rose and fell gently with each breath. Its bulbous green eyes watched him.

Hiccup stood very still.

It was the quiet dragons that were hardest to read. The most important thing was to appear a non-threat, but not so much that you looked vulnerable. He reached for his sword’s buckle, moving slowly.

The dragon’s spines stood on end. Its dull eyes widened.

Hiccup unbuckled the sword in one quick motion, and tossed both sword and sheathe into the brush. He lifted both hands, showing his empty palms.

The dragon’s paws flexed on the rock, and it stood. The spines did not relax. Those dull eyes seemed to bore into him.

“It’s okay,” Hiccup said, slipping into Norse, “I’m not going to hurt you, alright?”

The dragon lifted its long tail from the water, and that was all the warning he got.

Hiccup turned and ran. The animal thundered after him, heavy body crashing through the undergrowth, branches snapping in its wake. Hiccup tried to sprint but there always seemed to be trees in the way, and he had to move painfully slowly.

Horrible, shrieking cries loosed from the animal’s jaws, clattering around Hiccup’s ears. His heart pounded, the moss skidded under his feet. The dragon’s paws tore through the ground, ripping its way through the forest.

Hiccup’s artificial foot caught a cleft in the rock and snapped, sending him crashing into a ditch. His head cracked against wood, sending stars bursting across his eyes.

The animal leaped, huge jaws opening to reveal two rows of teeth and—

and

It stopped, upper body hanging a foot over him, jaws opening and snapping on nothing. Its stubby legs clawed at thin air. Hiccup stared up at the needle-thin rows of teeth, hardly daring to breathe, head aching viciously. The dragon let out a low, curdling snarl.

“Alright, buddy,” Someone said, “Enough of that.”

The dragon was lifted further away, and Hiccup saw a man had caught it by the long spines of the scruff of its neck, holding the huge beast easily. He was a mountain of a man, with an impressive crown of dense black hair. His torso and arms were adorned with incredibly complex tattoos that, Hiccup realized with a jolt, were moving.

The man caught the animal’s other end at the base of it’s tail and lifted it over his head. “See you later,” He said, and tossed it into the forest.

It landed on its back and flipped itself over indignantly. It stopped to send the man a dirty looked before disappearing into the undergrowth. The man ignored it, adjusting a gigantic fishhook that was tied to his back.

The stranger helped Hiccup up. It was a struggle to balance with only one foot, and the man kept a huge hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

“So, what’re you doing on my island, kid?” The man asked, gripping his shoulder.

“Your island?” Hiccup asked, trying to think through his ringing head. Then it dawned on him. “You’re Maui?”

“In the good-looking and well kept flesh,” The man grinned, “Hero of man, savior to all. _Who pulled up the sky_ , and all that.”

“Pulled up the sky?” Hiccup yelped. The noise made his head throb and he pressed a palm to his forehead.

“Yeah,” Maui pulled the viking from the ditch and set him on the path, “The sky was too low. You couldn’t get anything done.”

“But the sky—” Hiccup slipped dangerously, and Maui threw an arm around his waist and lifted him clear off the ground. After a moment of struggling, Hiccup gave up and let himself be carried. “The sky didn’t need lifting up.”

Maui raised an eyebrow, “Well, firstly I don’t know if you have a good idea of how it was, since it was a little before your time, and secondly,” Maui shifted Hiccup a little higher on his hip, “if you’d prefer to crawl around all the time don’t worry about it. You can do it without the sky being low.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hiccup said, “The sky was always that height, ’cause it was made from skull of the giant Ymir. The clouds are his brains.”

Maui looked at him for a moment, perplexed. And then he let out a loud, booming laugh. “You must have hit your head pretty hard,” Maui said, still chuckling.

Hiccup grumbled a little, because the shaking from Maui’s laughter shook his head that was still feeling a little fragile, but didn’t press it. To be honest, it probably did sound a little strange to someone who hadn’t grown up hearing it.

Maui carried him through the forest, lifting the branches out of his face and lifting him onto the demi-God’s shoulders where the gaps in the trees were too small to carry the viking on his hip through. It reminded Hiccup of being a skinny eight year old and Stoick carrying him through the village on his back. Pain punched through his chest and he wavered, unsteady.

“You know, you never answered me,” Maui said. The beach glowed through the dark trees ahead and Maui lifted Hiccup from his shoulders and setting him gently down. He kept a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “What _are_ you doing on my Island?”

“Well, we kind of need your help,” Hiccup said, stepping onto sand. He could manage a kind of hopping jump, which, while a little uncomfortable and awkward, was preferable to being carried everywhere.

“We?” Maui asked, glancing up the beach.

“Maui!” Moana burst into view, eyes bright.

“Moana?” Maui beamed. He scooped her up, swinging her around. She laughed wildly. “You’ve grown!” He said, wondrously, setting her down again.

“It’s been four years,” She said, in mock offense. “Of course I’ve grown.”

Maui smiled. He caught a glimpse of Toothless and his grin grew even bigger. “What’s this?” He exclaimed, approaching the dragon cautiously. “Is this a new species?”

“He’s called Toothless,” Moana said, patting the dragon on the head.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen a new animal in thousands of years!” Maui beamed. He paused, tugging the fishhook from his back and lifted it over his head. With a motion like cracking a whip, he dropped it—there was a burst of light and when it dimmed there were two Toothless’.

The original Toothless inclined his head, eyes widening. Maui circled him. Twin sets of jade-green eyes bore into each other. If not for the saddle, they would have been indistinguishable, down to the nearly invisible rope scars on Toothless’ chest. Maui opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out and Toothless jerked back, eyes narrowed.

Maui turned back to look at Moana, shifting his wings around experimentally. He didn’t move like Toothless—he tended to stamp—but the likeness was unsettling. Maui pushed himself onto his back paws, swaying.

“So,” Maui said, and with a flash of light he returned to his human form. “What’re you visiting for? Need a monster slaying? An island pulling from the sea?”

The light dimmed in Moana’s eyes and she drew back.

Hiccup returned from fitting his foot back on, and paused. “We need your help,” He said, measuredly. “There’s a God, Loki—One of… one of my Gods—and he’s looking to steal the heart of Ta Fiti.”

Maui frowned, and for a moment he looked serious, but his expression relaxed again. “It’s an easy fix. We just need to beat the notion out of him.”

Hiccup hesitated, and shook his head, “Loki’s not like that. A beating won’t change his mind.”

“You’d be surprised,” Maui hefted the fishhook onto his shoulder.

“It’s not that simple!” Moana said, sharply, crossing her arms, “Loki will kill my village if we don’t help him.”

“You’re helping him?” Maui startled.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Moana snapped. “I don’t have a choice.”

“It won’t come to that,” Hiccup assured her quickly.

Maui shook his head, more to clear his head than anything else. “So what can we do?”

Hiccup sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” He admitted, “I have some ideas… but I don’t know enough about it to have any concrete plans.”

Moana flipped her long hair over her shoulder, twisting her fingers into it as a deep frown knitted her eyebrows together.

Maui watched Toothless pace in the pale sand, something working across his features. He turned back to Hiccup, determination setting his eyes hard. “Tell me everything you know about Loki.”

Hiccup paused. He’d been told the tales when he was young, sitting around the fire with the rest of the children, with Gobber making grand gestures and doing the voices in his best voices. He remembered fighting over what tale would be told, and he remembered always losing. He remembered calling Astrid Skadi when she returned from long but successful hunts, he remembered her comparing Stoick to a Jotun. To think critically about them—to treat them as case studies and try to draw out any advantages from them—it felt so strange.

Hiccup sat on the beach, where the shadow touched the sand, and began to talk.

As he talked, the God and the girl sat too. As he talked, the sun rose high in the sky, and Moana’s frown eased. The more tales he went through, the more Maui started to interrupt, and the shushing of the other two didn’t seem to dissuade him.

He tried to recall all of them, tried to sort them into some sort of order, but they were tangled with childish fights that had spilled over into story time, Gobber’s own stories that he sprinkled in, and dragon attacks that had interrupted the endings to some of them. Often, he’d near the end of a tale and remember he skimmed over a vital chunk of information that was important in the ending.

When Hiccup reached the end of the last one, he was silent for a moment, racking his brains for any that he’d missed. He was thirsty and his throat felt raw and rough, not to mention how hungry he was. It was nearly midday and he hadn’t eaten since early yesterday. Moana apparently felt it too, and excused herself to go and find some salted fish to eat, leaving him with Maui.

Maui held his chin in his hand, staring hard at the sand a few paces from Hiccup’s feet. He frowned, hair slipping smoothly over his shoulders in a black wave. “So Loki has no specific weaknesses...” He said. “But he can be fought. You said he was bound by the Gods? What with?”

Hiccup cringed. “The entrails of his murdered son.”

Maui stared at him for a moment and looked away.

Hiccup stretched out his legs, digging his heels into the sand. The sunburn prickled incessantly under his clothes. He drew his knees up, keeping his ankles out of the sun. Hiccup had sometimes, secretly, rooted for the Loki in the stories. Loki was quick-witted and cunning, but not cut out of the same cloth the Æsir were. He was smart where they were bull-headed, he thought his way out of every problem he faced and often other people’s problems too. But the Loki from the tales wasn’t the Loki he had seen on that boat.

Moana returned with a small bowl of salted salmon, half of which she had doled out to Toothless before she even came into view. She took a few chunks of fish and passed the rest to Hiccup, along with a cup of water. “If Loki has no obvious weaknesses, let’s talk about the less obvious methods,” She said, around a mouth of fish.

“We don’t want to face him too close to Te Fiti,” Hiccup said, taking a big gulp of water. “And not too close to the Island.”

“Is there any way of even knowing when we’ll face him?” Moana asked. “He’s basically left us alone.”

Hiccup frowned. “That is odd, now that I think about it. I’d expect him to keep a closer eye on things.”

Maui was silent for a moment, expression dark. He stood, raising his huge hook and digging him feet into the sand. “Maybe he is keeping a close eye,” Maui said.

“What?” Hiccup asked.

“You said he could shapeshift, right?” Maui said.

Hiccup followed his gaze to a pair of darting black birds, who dived to a tree branch, landing with a hopping elegance. Their twin beetle-black eyes glinted down at them.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” A voice said from the shadows, and they spun around. Loki leaned languidly against a tree, marble skin bright even in the shadows. “But you’re in the right forest, I’ll give you that.”

Hiccup’s hand went for his sword, but then he realized it was still somewhere in the forest, where he’d thrown it.

Loki stepped forwards. In the full light of the afternoon sun his hair gleamed like fire. Thin, uniform scars around his lips made his smile stiff and slightly lopsided.

Maui lifted his fishhook and Loki dove at him, faster than an eagle.

They collided, throwing up sand, and Maui kicked him off, sending him crashing into a tree. The fishhook gleamed blue and he brought it cracking down, catching Loki’s neck and throwing him into the sea.

Loki leaped high, bursting through the water, a sharp glint in his bright eyes. They collided again, but this time Loki knocked the Fishhook straight out of his hand and sent it flying through the air.

Moana caught it. She lifted it to throw it back, but it wouldn’t move. Loki was suddenly behind her, holding it fast.

“A Demi-God is no match for the real thing,” Loki said, glowering down at them. He tugged at the Fishhook, nearly knocking Moana off her feet. She didn’t let go. Loki glared at her.

Maui stood up, setting his shoulders.

The Norse God glanced at him, and his expression soured. He dragged the fishhook up, lifting Moana clean off the sand. She kicked him in the face, as hard as she could. He reeled.

Loki swung the fishhook over his head, dislodging Moana and sending her crashing into a sea that rose up to meet her, delivering her smoothly back to the sand. He stared at her for a moment, and then his attention returned to the Demi-God.

“Perhaps you have forgotten the stakes,” Loki said, holding the fishhook between his palms. It shrunk, sending up green smoke, until it was the size of his thumb. He tucked it into his tunic and turned his gaze on Hiccup.

Hiccup flinched. A low, deep pain spread through his stomach and he folded in on himself, knees hitting the sand. Spreading like fire through his abdomen, his nerves felt like they were replaced by live wires.

The pain was different to the last time. Instead of being impossible to withstand, this time it clouded his mind like dense fog, blocking out all thoughts. He vaguely saw Maui take a swing at Loki but hit thin air, Moana throw coconuts like canon balls. He felt Toothless’ warm flat nose press into his face urgently. The pain ate away at him, smothering his mind.

 

*

 

It was early evening when Hiccup woke.

Cool wind pushed the trees softly. The raw, briney smell of the ocean seeped into Hiccup’s mouth, and his tongue tasted like salt and iron. The sky was a deep, subtle blue, like clear ice. He watched the thin clouds change, gradually.

“Hiccup?” Moana asked.

Hiccup startled, sitting up. He had no pain, but his head felt too heavy for his shoulders.

“How are you? Are you hurt?” Moana asked, pressing a damp cloth to his forehead.

“I’m fine,” Hiccup croaked, “Where’s Maui? Is he okay?”

Moana shrugged. “He should be. It’s not the first time he’s lost his fishhook,” She sat back on her heels. The wind tugged at her long hair.

Toothless padded over, leaving broad, round footprints. He settled next to Hiccup, long tail curling around his paws. His bright eyes watched him, very carefully.

Moana sat down properly, setting the damp cloth down. The ocean seemed to drag at her attention, and she couldn’t keep her eyes from the horizon. She sighed. “What are we going to do now?”

“We have to make a plan,” Hiccup said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Plan for what?” Moana said, sharply. “So Loki can break Maui’s fishhook? So you can die for real this time?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Hiccup shook his head firmly, “Because we have an advantage this time.”

“What?” Moana said, “What advantage?”

“You,” Hiccup smiled.

Moana frowned.

“Something always bothered me about Loki’s behavior,” Hiccup said, shaking his head slowly, “He said he didn’t want to demonstrate his power on the whole village because that would be over the top, but Loki’s not always subtle. What if he didn’t do it… because he can’t.”

“What?” Moana said, “So you think he can only do it on one person at a time?”

“More than that,” Hiccup said, “I think he can only do it on me.”

Moana stared at him.

“You were the one who tried to take the Fishhook from him, and you kicked him in the face,” He said, a note of approval in his voice. He continued, croakily, “It would have made more sense to give you the pain. But all he did was throw you into the sea. He didn’t touch you. I don’t think he’s ever directly attacked you.”

Moana shook her head. “He hasn’t. But how come he can’t?”

“It’s like you said,” Hiccup rubbed his throat. “He’s my God.”

Moana frowned a little, thinking. The tide came in, choppy in the breeze. “So we use it to our advantage?” Moana asked, “How?”

“Well,” Hiccup said, pulling his ankles away from the water. “I’ll distract him, you steal Maui’s fishhook and we’ll all help beat the stuffing out of him.”

“What’s to stop Loki from just taking it again?” Moana said, finally. “And how do we know the Fishhook won’t just stay tiny when we take it away from him?”

Hiccup looked a little lost. He eventually shrugged.

Maui cleared his throat. He towered over the cluster of rocks at the fringe of the beach, dark hair rippling in the wind. “I think I know a way.”

 

*

 

The mist was thick and heavy, ocean churning and boiling under the longboat. Loki rested his elbows on the front railings, welcoming the vicious, biting wind. The mast groaned above him, sails slapping. The wind howled and hollered, muffled and deafening at the same time. It was the weather that reminded him of Asgardian winters, hunting dragons and sea monsters so many years ago. He breathed shallowly.

Rain lashed against the wood, thundering like war drums. He didn’t hear them coming.

From the center of the storm— _fire_.

Fire burst into life over the sails, fire hit the deck like a cannonball, sending up thick ghosts of steam. Loki twisted about, but he couldn’t see anything in the clouds except a hundred shifting, lengthening shadows.

Something barreled into him and he fell—throwing up freezing water—hitting the cabin walls with a crack. He felt the front of his tunic ripped open, tossing a million priceless things onto the deck—an acorn from the world tree, one of Iduna’s apples, the heartstrings of a dragon—but most importantly, something small and bone-white that grew in the hand of the dark shape over him. In one crack of thunder, Maui stood illuminated, gigantic fishhook raised high.

Loki flinched, and the magic in his veins jumped, and he was a wolf, an eagle, an eel. He closed a clawed hand around Maui’s wrist but he was forced back, a ball of fire connecting where his feet had just been.

Maui’s fishhook caught him on the side of the jaw, sending him flying. He shifted into an eagle mid-flight and swung back onto the deck, drenched. The wood slipped under his feet. Loki flicked his wrist, two throwing knives dropping into his hand and he raised them, poised.

A shadow landed on the bow of the ship, its rider’s sword outstretched. An oar smacked Loki across the back of his head.

“Give it up!” Moana shouted behind him, giving him another jab in the back of the skull for good measure. “Stop going after Ta Fiti!”

The dragon rider dismounted, rain washing over his dark form. The demigod flicked his fishhook menacingly.

“And just why do you think I’m going to do that?” Loki asked, flicking wet hair out of his eyes.

“Because we’ve figured you out,” Moana snarled, smacking him with the oar. “You can’t hurt me!”

Loki paused, dark eyes shifting subtly, like a shark viewed from the sky. He smiled. “You miscalculated.” He said.

A knife buried itself in Hiccup’s chest.

The boy froze for a moment, staring at it, shock bleaching his features. Then his knees gave out, and he toppled over backwards, disappearing into the sea. Toothless roared, leaping after him, but his tail went taut as if snatched by an invisible hand.

“You—!” Moana screamed, smashing his head with the oar.

Maui raised the hook, but Loki moved quicker, beating him back into the sea, and with a rattling kick he sent him tumbling overboard.

Moana brought the oar down across the back of Loki’s head viciously, blood staining the end of the wood, but the God didn’t fall. His dark eyes gleamed furiously.

“You know, I’ve had just about enough of this whole affair,” Loki said, his voice a rumble. He snatched Moana’s wrist, dragging her to the front of the boat. Toothless stopped trying to drag his tail away from the wood to leap at him, heavy paws beating the air near his nose. Loki grimaced.

Green smoke bloomed between Loki’s fingers and he snatched Toothless by the scruff of his neck, holding both of them as far away from him as he could.

Cold—suddenly, terrible cold snaked its way up up Moana’s feet. She looked down to see white snow beneath her, impossibly, and glanced around wildly. Snow was eating away at the surroundings in a circle. She was—she was disappearing!

“Have fun in Berk,” Loki snapped, letting go of both of them and disappearing, swallowed up by the white landscape.

Moana was standing on the end of a long, low white slope. Ice bit at her throat. She stared around, blinking hard.

The sea roared behind her, at the bottom of a steep drop, crashing over rocks. It sounded feral and angry, shaking at the stones. Foam fizzed in the dark water. Ahead of her, the land sloped sharply upwards, split in two like a valley, as white as bone. The snow was frozen solid and slippery. The land had a dangerous, fierce beauty, like the ocean at storm, but this ice was no friend of hers.

Cold snapped at her skin, numbness spread through her feet and through her heart. Moana stumbled, and her knees hit the ice. The cold was torturous. She curled into a ball, Toothless’ paw dragged her into his side. She pressed her face into the smooth skin of Toothless’ chest. It felt like something was crumbling in her chest, like something was breaking very very gently.

Moana wrapped her arms around Toothless’ neck. Cold burned through her side, but she couldn’t escape it. She cried quietly into the dragon’s collarbone.

 

*

 

It was cold when Moana woke.

Snow scattered over her shins and into her hair and eyelashes. She scrubbed at her eyes, taking thin, quiet breaths. It felt like her insides had been hollowed out.

Toothless nudged her gently, tail flicking up snowfall. His huge eyes were steady and cautious.

“Alright,” Moana mumbled, standing shakily, “I’m up.”

Her legs felt dead, and her toes only wriggled begrudgingly. The cold had seeped into her bones and joints, sucking the life and warmth from her. She looked over the utterly bleak landscape, the severe slopes and sudden drops of the snowfields. There wasn’t even a hint of colour for miles. Even the sea was a dark shade of grey.

Had someone like Hiccup really grown up in a place like this? At the thought of him, Moana’s heart shuddered. Her eyes prickled dangerously and she swallowed hard, squaring her shoulders. She had to keep moving forward. Loki was still out there, still trying to take Ta Fiti’s heart, still putting her village, her family at risk. But as much as she repeated that to herself, there was still a large part of her that just wanted to curl into a ball and let herself be buried by snow.

Toothless nudged her elbow, padding through the snow. He looked back at her.

She put a hand on her head, looking up at the dismal sky. Snow melted under her palm. Her hair, usually soaking up the sun, was freezing and tangled. She sighed deeply, from the depths of her lungs, and padded after the dragon.

Toothless led them through the featureless landscape, down a dangerously slippery pathway, to the sea. It growled over the rocks, fizzing white over black. Moana could feel the chill from the ocean a few feet away. Toothless gestured at it.

Moana frowned, heart sinking. “I can’t sail, Toothless,” She said, “I don’t have a boat.”

Toothless gestured again, pointing his nose towards a dark outcrop of rocks.

Moana followed his gaze, taking a step towards them, said “I don’t—” and stopped.

There was something, a different shade of grey from the rest of the rocks. She fished it out, wincing when her toes touched the water, and held it up to the light.

It was some kind of cloak, a similar style to one of Hiccup’s, but sown thick with dark feathers. Pale thread outlined the fabric, some of them doubled back on the path of the thread to make strange symbols Moana couldn’t read. The cloak was stiff and partially frozen, but the feathers were soft. Moana tied it to the back of Toothless’ saddle. If she could thaw it out, then it might help her get a little warmer.

Toothless led her up the beach. Moana kept a hand on his tail. It helped ground her. Her hands started to shake.

After what felt like an hour, Moana dropped Toothless’ tail and slumped against the icy cliff. Her heart ached.

Toothless turned back to her, nudging her urgently.

Moana pushed him away.

With an annoyed snap of his jaws, Toothless caught her by her middle and tossed her onto his back. She landed awkwardly, and slowly arranged herself to sit properly on the saddle.

She didn’t want to go on, but she didn’t have the energy to fight with Toothless. She felt heavy, and cold, on the brink of tears. Moana wormed her fingers into the frozen feathers of the cloak.

Ice laced the air around them. The cliff didn’t change as the ground they walked rose slightly, the slippery black rock nearly identical to where they had been earlier. Moana looked up at the cliff’s edge, high above them. At some places she saw the overhang of a bare and spidery tree, at other times she saw the nose of a strange, fluffy white animal poking its head over the edge. Mostly she saw nothing.

The horizon was bleak, dotted with dark, shadowy island around the bay. She tucked her shins just behind Toothless’ front legs, trying to will some warmth into them. Hair chilled her neck.

In the corner of her eye, she spotted movement. Her heart lurched.

Toothless, instead of shying away like she expected him to, sped up. His paws hit the ground heavily, shaking her. He let out a low, keening sound.

Someone bounded up to them.

It was a woman, with hair a little paler than canary feathers, bound in a complicated braid. She was dressed thickly, metal and leather bound tightly over her sides and frill of spiked leather slapped around her waist. She shouted something, dropping her heavy ax and cupping Toothless’ snout. He pushed into her hands, snuffling quietly. She said something again, quieter, and looked up, straight at Moana.

Moana stared back at her.

Part of her wanted to run. A large part of her. But she couldn’t break eye-contact with this strange woman, a member of Hiccup’s own village.

The woman straightened, holding her hands out to show they were empty. She asked something, quietly. Kindly. She waited for Moana to respond, a frown creasing her forehead when she realized Moana wasn’t going to.

Her nose was splattered with the same freckles Hiccup had, but they were finer, paler. She shrugged off her heavy fur coat, touching Moana’s elbow gently before throwing the coat over her shoulders. The sudden warmth was enough to prick tears in Moana’s eyes.

The woman’s hand rested on Moana’s shoulder as she led the pair up a set of frozen wooden stairs and into a small village center. It was similar to Moana’s village, but the wood was thicker and darker. The woman stepped away from them to open the huge, imposing doors of what much be the town hall, before beckoning them in.

The hall was cavernous, wood stretching far over her head. In the middle of cluster of tables there was a huge, empty grate, still smoldering from last night’s fire. Moana slid off Toothless’ back, bare feet hitting the cold stone, and padded to the dying fire.

The woman noticed and brought over more wood. She loaded it in a pyramid and stepped back for Toothless to spit a fireball into the grate.

Warmth burst through the still air. Moana sat on the floor near the fire, pulling the woman’s coat tightly around her. Toothless sat neatly next to her, head resting on top of hers. He rumbled, and she felt the vibrations in the back of her neck.

Moana wiped the tears from her eyes and breathed heavily. Fatigue rested heavily on her shoulders, and the growing warmth made it worse. Toothless flattened his chest against her back, huddling closer. He licked the top of her head comfortingly.

The woman returned, followed by an older, taller woman. The taller woman had harsher features, and carried a round, blue-painted shield. Something about the lines in her stern face told Moana she was the Chief.

The Chief looked at Toothless and the lines in her face grew harder. She rested a hand on his head, and said something back to the first woman.

The first woman left, and after a few moments came back, followed by a whole hoard of villagers. They were similar to Hiccup in their skin colour and facial structure—what she could see under their thick beards, long braids and heavy, dense clothing—but their build, the way they moved was totally different. Where Hiccup was quick and limber, these men and women, were strong and slow.

The ice in the feather cloak was starting to melt, dripping chilled water down Moana’s neck. She watched the villagers crowd around her warily. The fire roared and a few villagers threw more logs at it. Nobody spoke.

A muscular man with a helmet with iron horns that curled behind his head stepped forward, speaking roughly. He shook his hand at Moana, gesturing between her and the dragon. When Moana didn’t answer, he raised his voice.

Chief stepped in, putting a hand on the centre of Muscles’ chest. He deflated, shoulders drooping. She watched him for a moment, and let out a deep sigh. She gestured to the air, taking a seat beside the fire.

Some of the villages came in, baskets filled with dull, meaty fish, which they passed out on spears. Moana accepted one even though she didn’t feel like eating. Toothless sniffed at it, and she sighed, pulling out her knife to cut it in half.

Muscles gasped.

He snatched her wrist, staring down at her knife. “Hiccup!” He snapped.

Anger boiled in her, sudden and fierce. She punched him.

While he was reeling she landed another cracking blow, knocking him off his feet.

The first woman stepped between them, raising her hands. Her pale hair caught in her long lashes, and Moana could see budding tears. The woman steeled her gaze, schooling her face into a neutral, calming expression. She gestured, gently, for the knife.

After a moment, Moana lifted the blade, turning it to catch the firelight. The runes caught jagged in the light, like scars on the smooth metal’s side.

“Hiccup...” The woman said, tilting her head. She gestured for something she knew she couldn’t put into words. “Hiccup…?”

Moana felt the well of emptiness open in her again. It felt like she was falling inside herself, like her heart was sinking in a sea, disappearing into blackness. She gritted her teeth. “Hiccup,” She said, pointing the blade towards her chest and mimed falling around it, shoulders hunching. The tip nicked her dress. “He’s dead,” She muttered, although she knew they couldn’t understand her.

 

*

 

Hiccup woke, chest on fire.

His legs were freezing cold, shirt saturated with sea water, and his arms ached, gripping the log for dear life. He blinked, staring down at the water. He should be dead. He remembered a different body of water, a darker river, a woman with half a beautiful face, the other half bone and rotting chunks, hair like black spider’s webs. He remembered dying.

He looked up.

The water was brilliant blue, and calm. An island rose gently next to him, a soft, emerald moss blanketing the slopes. Trees shifted in the quiet wind. It looked like paradise. He shifted finding knobbly corral under his feet. He let go of the log, tripping over his numb legs. The air chilled his wet spine as he stood, chest burning. He was exhausted.

Hiccup waded through the shallow waters, trying hard not to stumble on the uneven sea bed. He reached the white beach and flopped onto it. His feet ached dully.

The sand was sun-warmed, and softer than sand ought to be. It was like falling asleep on dust.

Hiccup woke some time later, sun lower in the sky. His face was crusted with sand and his shirt had dried and stiffened.

He looked up into the face of a Goddess.

Hiccup stumbled back, falling over himself. Above him, impossibly tall and a soft, emerald green, a beautiful woman looked down at him. She had broad, high cheek bones and a warm smile. Her gentle, delicate eyes considered him evenly.

“Are you—you’re… you’re Te Fiti, right?” He asked, unable to drag his eyes away. Although he had wondered what she would look like a lot on the journey, in reality she was more impressive, and more human, than he had imagined.

She nodded, gently, a few birds scattering from her hair.

“I’m not here to steal your heart,” He said, scrambling up, “I never intended to.”

She watched him, and tilted her head slightly, heavy hair sending earth crumbling away from her shoulder, shaking the palm trees. “I know,” She said, softly.

For a moment, Hiccup was confused. The words seemed so strange and he couldn’t figure out why. Until he realized: they were in Norse.

“You speak Norse?” He asked, slipping into his mother tongue.

Te Fiti smiled.

Hiccup grinned back. He felt, ludicrously, like laughing.

There was a deep rumbling, a shifting of earth, and a gigantic closed hand lifted from the vegetation. Te Fiti moved to rest her hand on the beach, disturbing the thin sand, and unfolded her giant, moss-covered fingers. Resting in the palm of her hands was a woven satchel, of the kind Stoick took on hunting trips when Hiccup was a child.

Hiccup hesitated, and lifted the bag from the Goddess’ palm. When he had stepped back, her fingers folded back, and she shifted back to her original position, looking down at him fondly, like a mother with a child.

The bad was heavy, and smelt delicious. He opened it, and saw a cooked hog, skin bronzed and perfectly cooked. His mouth watered, and he glanced back up at the Goddess. “Can—Can I…?” He asked.

The Goddess laughed softly, a wonderful sound, and nodded.

Hiccup dug in. The food was incredible. It was like every memory of delicious food was wrapped up and recreated, bursting across his tastebuds, dripping down his chin. He had forgotten how much he missed Norse food. He ate and ate, even after he was full, until he was left with bare, sticky bones, and a wonderfully full tummy. He sighed happily.

“Thank you,” Hiccup said, ducking his head in a bow. “It was delicious!”

Te Fiti watched, and waited.

Hiccup wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and folded the sack around the bones, tying the fabric in a knot. He held it up to her.

The Goddess lifted it between her fingers and thumb, and dropped it into her palm. When she opened her hand, it was gone. She smiled at his wonder-filled expression.

She moved her hand back, and stilled. Her eyes were dark, with glimmers like gold coins at the bottom of a deep well. They watched him, waiting.

Hiccup crossed his legs, a small worry worming in his chest. He hooked his fingers under his thighs, looking out at the horizon and the shifting tides. The sun slanted over the horizon, spilling and pooling in the waves.

“Am I dead?” Hiccup asked, quietly.

The Goddess blinked her flower-dusted lashes, and smiled. She shook her head.

Hiccup frowned. “But how did—?” He pushed his shirt open and touched the centre of his chest, feeling it carefully. It was smooth. Even the old scars from dragons, the knife wounds, the burns, the arrow holes—they had all been smoothed away. “They’re gone. All of them.”

Hiccup looked up at the Goddess. “Did you do this?” He asked.

The Goddess closed her eyes and inclined her head in a half-nod.

“But how? Why?” Hiccup asked, rising to his knees.

The Goddess breathed softly through her nose, fluttering the tiny multicoloured flowers on her chest. “I need you,” She said. Her Norse was perfect, softly spoken and crystal clear.

Hiccup waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. He gripped his knees,. “For what?” He asked, and frowned, “Is it to do with Loki?”

The Goddess smiled, and nodded. “Yes, Loki,” She said, “An old Husband.”

Hiccup stared. “Husband?” He scratched the back of his head, “He doesn’t seem your type.”

The Goddess laughed, quietly.

“If he was your husband, why did he want to steal your heart?” Hiccup asked, “If he needed your power, why didn’t he just ask?”

The Goddess shook her head, slightly. “He was Te Kā’s husband.”

Hiccup sat up straighter. He looked hard at the bundles of fresh grass growing at the edge of the beach, the little black pebbles of rock as smooth and bubbled as glass. “You’re… You were... Angrboða,” He ran a hand through his hair, “But I thought she—you were a Jötunn?”

She lifted a shoulder and an eyebrow, a Godly kind of shrug. “I am many things,” She said.

Hiccup chewed his lip thoughtfully, “So Loki’s trying to turn you back into Angrboða?”

Te Fiti shook her head. Her heavy hair moved in slow waves like a lazy green tide.

“So it’s not about that,” Hiccup muttered, scratching his chin. “So it’s about one of your children?”

She nodded, and said, softly, “Jormungand is dying.”

Hiccup frowned. Jormungand, the world snake. He encircled the entire ocean, tail trapped in his own teeth. “What’s killing him?” He asked, looking back up at the Goddess.

“Storm dragons. They are biting his spine,” The Goddess’ eyes softened, “One day he will bite back.”

Hiccup jolted upright, “He can’t! If he lets go of his tail—...” Hiccup stared up at her, eyes wide.

Te Fiti nodded, lowering her head. Emerald shadows pooled in her eyes. “The world will end.”


End file.
